


I Wish I Was Kind

by FallLover



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Flirting, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning After, One-Sided Attraction, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, background Yennefer/Geralt, based on the 2019 show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-24 21:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallLover/pseuds/FallLover
Summary: Jaskier took himself off of Geralt's hands, as requested. He DID. It's been a month. Of course the oaf had to hunt him down. And Jaskier wasn't annoyed about it. At all.Takes place after "Rare Species".
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 116
Kudos: 1974





	1. Nothing is Easy

Jaskier finally sat down for a drink and a small meal. He’d been singing all day and he felt it was getting close to calling it quits.

Of course, Geralt of fucking Rivia chose to walk up to his table and sit down. Jaskier had seen him come in during the last song. And then had avoided looking his direction throughout the entire song. Geralt had kept his distance, and Jaskier wondered if he’d left.

Of course he hadn’t.

Jaskier still stood by _his_ decision not to leave the inn. Jaskier _had_ left when Geralt vocally voiced the request in those fucking mountains. Jaskier had drifted for a bit and finally settled in a town in the middle of wherever, whose primary appeal was that it was devoid of certain Witchers, and no one here was chasing him off for one reason or another. He'd probably leave in a bit for new places, but for now, he'd been _fine_. Geralt had, of course, shown up. And chose to stay. For some unearthly reason. It had been almost a month. Perhaps the man needed someone to yell at again. But Jaskier was singing at this inn for the time and if Geralt wanted him gone because he happened to lope around, Geralt had—

“I need your help, Jaskier.”

Jaskier choked on his drink. Thankfully he hadn’t swallowed much. He cleared his throat and glared as he wiped his mouth off. “Excuse me?” He managed to put as much venom into the response as he possibly could. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely over what Geralt had said in the mountains. Of course he wasn’t. But Jaskier could play it cool. Professional.

“There’s a merperson in a town several days ride from here and they won’t stop bothering the townsfolk until the person who wrote “Toss a Coin to your Witcher” sings it to them.”

Jaskier blinked. Blinked again.

Geralt’s face was his usual bland scowl.

Jaskier snorted. He leaned in slightly. “Geralt, full offense meant: fuck. You.” Then he swallowed the rest of his drink, grabbed his plate of food, and walked up to his room.

Of course Geralt followed him, but Jaskier did almost slam the door in his face. Of course Geralt _caught_ the door, the stupid, powerful, walking muscle of a man who didn't have the thrice-damned decency to let a man burn in shame on his own.

“Jaskier, please—”

“Look, I get it,” Jaskier said, rounding on him. “You don’t want me around. That’s always been true. You don’t have to make up stories _that_ stupid just to rub in my face how pointless you deem my entire existence!”

“Jaskier—”

“I was _minding_ my own business,” Jaskier had set his food down so he could gesticulate, “doing what you wanted – staying away – but _you_ walked in on me, working. _You_ sat down at _my_ table. I didn’t sit with you. I wasn’t making eye contact. I—”

“Jaskier, I’m being serious,” Geralt said. “There really _is_ a havfrue, and they drove off some drowners, for which the townsfolk were very grateful. Unfortunately, as payment, the havfrue demanded that the person who composed “Toss a Coin to your Witcher” sing to them as recompense. They’ve been singing nonstop in the usual mer way and it’s been unsettling the locals, scaring livestock, that sort of thing. The locals tried to make them go away, but the group that tried was nearly drowned in the attempt. The headwoman is offering gold to get rid of them.”

Jaskier lowered his arms and stared. Then he snorted. “Of course. Of _course_ that’s a _thing_. Why _else_ would you be here?” He sighed and started packing up his things. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Jaskier half-snarled.

“…Thank you. I’ll… be downstairs.”

Jaskier didn’t watch him leave, or the door shut. He waited until he heard those heavy footfalls down the stairs before he sat down on his bed and realized that he’d never heard Geralt ask him for help. Or say thank you.

It was nice. Different. Of course only brought on by truly ridiculous circumstances, but, well.

He was still annoyed. Pissed off. Hurt. Wounded. Drowned in… ah fuck it. There were people who needed help. Heroics to do and all that. An audience seeking _Jaskier’s_ voice. Jaskier had never been a hero before. A real one.

And that was the _only_ reason he was going. Yup. Nothing else.

* * *

When Jaskier walked out of the inn he spotted Geralt sitting on Roach, all suited up and ready to go. Beside Roach was a second horse, also ready for travel.

Jaskier sniffed and looked around. “Someone else joining us?” It wouldn’t surprise him. Maybe another fighter to be a better traveling companion, and to make Jaskier’s presence less… difficult to deal with.

“No,” Geralt replied. “It’s for you. Ran into some bandits on the way here and they… had spares. I sold the others, but…”

“Ah.” Jaskier surveyed the horse. “This way we’ll be faster, then.” Jaskier placed his packs and quickly climbed up on the horse. “Gets me out of your hair sooner.”

Geralt frowned at him, but Jaskier knew that was his normal expression, so he really expected nothing of it. Probably he hated how Jaskier was sitting or something. Jaskier glared back, then gestured. “Well? _I_ certainly don’t know where we’re going. Lead the way.”

Geralt directed Roach on, and off they went.

Jaskier felt he did a good job of ignoring Geralt by focusing on writing a new song in his head. He even kept his murmurings relatively quiet as he worked over the verses. Geralt didn’t bother him all day. Didn’t bark at him to be quieter or anything.

Jaskier knew that if the man _did_ bark at him, Jaskier would bark right back.

The following night, Jaskier was lying on his bedroll, staring up at the night sky, and running through one of the songs he’d half-written. Even though he just kept repeating the same lines because he kept getting distracted by the way Geralt moved around the campsite. Like a giant feline of some kind. Lithe and powerful and…

It pissed Jaskier off. He wanted to write poems about it and he also refused because why would you write poems about someone who hated you, that was—

“You’re a very good rider,” Geralt commented from where he sat on the opposite side of the fire, mending one of his shirts.

Jaskier blinked, rolled his eyes, and replied, “If that’s just shorthand for saying you’re astonished that I didn’t fall off, you can shove it.”

Geralt blinked. “It was meant as a compliment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on a horse before. Well, under your own power, anyway. I didn’t even know you _could_ ride.”

“Yes. Well. I can. I suppose.”

“Where’d you learn?” Geralt smiled. “Running from one of your many noble lovers?”

Jaskier mock laughed. “Ah yes. Clearly. The only way I could learn anything. Of course. Fell onto a stable and grabbed the first horse I saw and learned it that way with my trousers around my ankles while an armed mob was after me.” He rolled onto his side so his back was to Geralt.

“…I’m sorry, Jaskier. I was… trying to make a joke.”

Jaskier’s chest had tightened up on the words, “I’m sorry,” but, well… Of course he just meant about the horse thing. Jaskier rolled his eyes again. “Yes, well. It’s all I do, isn’t it? Run from lovers. Real or imaginary…”

“You were performing in that inn. I think you were doing a fine job.”

“Were you actually listening or drinking and making eyes with the maids?”

“… I… actually only heard part of the song.”

“Ah. But my skill is _so_ obvious from so little. Thank you for the compliment.”

Geralt lowered his work and glared. “Jaskier, seriously, what's going on? You’ve been sniping at me ever since—”

“Ever since _what_?” Jaskier sat up and turned to glare back at Geralt. “Since you intruded on my dinner, barged into my bedroom, and wouldn’t leave me alone? And then you _patronize_ me about my riding and my interests and my work because of course to you I’m some useless sack of dogshit who always brings problems down on your head!?”

Geralt blinked at him.

Jaskier’s eyes widened.

“Jaskier—”

“Forget I said all that,” Jaskier replied. He turned and lay back down. He let his fool mouth run off, as usual. His parents always said he’d get himself in trouble because of it and he always did.

“I don’t think you’re a useless sack of dogshit, Jaskier.”

Jaskier swallowed. But for once, he didn’t reply.

* * *

They barely spoke at all for the rest of the trip, which was thankfully short. The tension was awful. Every time Jaskier felt like sniping at Geralt for something, he hummed the verse of a song to distract himself and calm down. Geralt, for his part, was his usual, sullen, silent self. For once, Jaskier was grateful for that, even if it made the tension worse and made it harder to sleep at night because of his anxiety that something was going to happen at any time.

Every day Jaskier cursed himself for his obsession with the unobtainable. And he’d forgotten how much worse it was to be _near_ the man. At least from afar Jaskier could think, well, to have loved and lost, but close up was lost, lost, lost, very lost, you’re a moron, fuck off, _lost_.

They finally reached the town and Jaskier nearly kissed the dirt beneath the headwoman’s feet when she walked up to them, clearly recognizing Geralt. The woman was almost of Geralt’s height, old enough to be Jaskier’s mother, stern, and wearing a rather gorgeous outfit Jaskier was slightly jealous of.

“This him?” she demanded, glancing at Jaskier.

“Yes,” Geralt replied.

“Good,” the headwoman said. “Come on then.”

They stabled the horses and she led them to the lake on the edge of town, pointing them to a single dock. Jaskier tuned his lute as he walked, hoping the air wouldn’t be too hard on the instrument, and the acoustics too unforgiving on both the instrument and his voice.

Geralt stayed by his side along the dock for whatever reason.

“You know I’ll be singing in your face?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll live,” Geralt replied.

“Well don’t whine about the music, then,” Jaskier said. “I know you hate it.”

Geralt didn’t reply, but put an arm out to stop Jaskier when something large swam by the end of the dock.

Jaskier swallowed. He hadn’t fully thought about the person-sized thing in the water he’d be singing to. He hoped they wouldn’t eat him.

A large creature perhaps twice the size of the average human shot out of the water and leaned over the side of the dock like it was a table. Their skin was pinkish purple and brown, blending into hair-like fins in similar colors. Their lips and eyes were dark purple. But save for the fins, they might have passed for a human. When they met Jaskier’s eyes, they smiled – all sharp teeth.

“You’re the one. I smell it on you. Sing me the song, bard.”

Jaskier considered he hadn’t quite planned on a stage audience. But he didn’t much take to jumping around the dock like an idiot and falling to his death or something. So he clambered to a sitting position - he was sure the dock was filthy, but after traveling a few days in the woods, so was he - and grinning gamely at this creature of myth who wanted to hear him play while a Witcher of all things glared over his shoulder. 

“I hear you requested “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher”?

The mer nodded, grinning back at him.

So Jaskier tuned the lute one last time and went into the song. He hadn’t sung this one to a single-person audience in a while but, well... some people appreciated art better than others. He bounced a bit in time with the tune, seeing the mer sway a bit and clap their hands, warbling along with the chorus in a soft voice that sounded oddly melodic, but Jaskier couldn’t quite hear right. After the song ended, he bowed, and looked up as the mer applauded him.

“That was wonderful,” they said.

Jaskier grinned.

“You should come to my home and sing for us. They’d love you there.”

“Uh... I...”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, warningly.

Jaskier may have still been pissed right off at Geralt for various reasons, hurt, very deeply so, but he trusted that Geralt knew a lot more about mythical creatures than Jaskier did. So, Jaskier replied, “Thank you for the truly gracious offer… but I must decline.”

The mer pouted slightly, then shrugged. “Very well then.” Then they ducked beneath the water and swam off towards the river.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s arm and pulled him up and away from the dock, watching the direction the mer had swam in and the surrounding waters warily.

“Is that it?” The headwoman asked. She was standing a short ways off, with a small crowd of people who’d gathered while Jaskier sang. The group stared at Jaskier and Geralt in awe.

“Well stay the night and see if they come back tomorrow,” Geralt said.

“We’ll put you up, then. Thank you, Witcher.” She looked at Jaskier. “And thank you, bard.”

* * *

Jaskier found a welcome audience at the inn. People had been afraid to sing for a time - apparently the mer happened to hear someone from the town singing and started that awful singing – which Jaskier questioned, the mer had a lovely voice – when they heard the townsfolk hadn’t written the song. But with the mer gone, and a songwriter among them, they were less concerned.

Jaskier still called it early, a bit tired from the events of the day. Geralt sat on the floor in their room, meditating. It wasn’t the first time they’d had to share a room on the road. Geralt meditated as much as he slept, so it wasn’t a major problem. And Jaskier had shared plenty of beds when he’d started out in his profession.

Still, he did not look forward to this. They hadn’t been stuck in an enclosed space together in a long time. At least on the road, there was the pretense that one of them could just get up and keep walking until they hit the sea or something.

Jaskier lay on his side and looked at the ceiling, reminding himself he’d rid a town of a mer that had been driving people up the wall, and maybe made them a bit worried that their drowning problem wasn’t entirely dealt with. He was the hero! And all Geralt had done was fetch him!

And... stop him from going to some mer homeland, which was probably grand. And an adventure few people had ever experienced. But he might have just been drowned anyway.

“You did good, Jaskier,” Geralt said. “Thank you.”

Jaskier smiled at that. It was always nice, really. To hear that from anyone. It was one thing he loved about his job - the times people truly enjoyed what he did and complimented him for it. But he hadn’t ever really heard it from Geralt before. Twice in only a few days, well. That was something.

But he also knew it meant nothing, really.

“Tell me,” Jaskier asked. “If this oddly specific thing hadn’t come up, and you had the ill luck to run across me in that inn by pure happenstance, would you have stayed, or turned and left the town?”

Geralt didn’t reply.

Jaskier gave him some time, sighed, and turned on his side. He’d expected as much. “Well if the mer doesn’t come back, I guess I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. You must prepare a celebration. Although you’ll probably have to leave first. If you wait for me to depart on foot, you’ll be waiting some time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jaskier blinked.

“For what I said in the mountains. I’m sorry, all right? It was misplaced anger, and you didn’t deserve it.”

Jaskier swallowed. Maybe he was having a dream? That had to be it. Still. “…It was hardly a lie, though.”

“No. You were right. It was unfair. I find myself in ridiculous circumstances time and again. It happens. The world is a ridiculous place, full of ridiculous people and things. And... I was angry at myself, but saw an easier target for my anger. I’m truly sorry, Jaskier.”

Jaskier swallowed. “Yes, well... uh huh.” Brilliant. First rate. Nailed it.

“And I don’t hate your singing. Well... not all of it.”

Jaskier snorted.

“And I remember what _you_ said in the mountains. When I was being a blasted asshole. You were kind and far fairer to me than I deserved, particularly when I thought we’d lost Borch, Tea, and Vea.”

“…It’s not like you’d done anything wrong… at the time.” Jaskier hated confrontation. Ran from it like it was a building on fire. Or an angry spouse. Which was pretty much the same thing. His throat always felt scratchy and his voice got higher pitched and it felt hard to say things, so his brain would randomly say nonsense. But also Jaskier was maybe still a bit angry.

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Yes, at the time.”

Jaskier heard Geralt stand up, and really hoped the man wasn’t walking around to stand in front of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier felt red as a tomato and if Geralt looked at him he’d probably scream or burst into tears or something else ridiculous, with everything that was happening.

Instead, Jaskier felt the weight of someone – a stupidly large someone – sitting on the other side of the bed. A large hand settled hesitantly on Jaskier’s shoulder. “And I never thanked you for it. For comforting me… and certainly for not yelling right back at me when I went off at you after… well.”

Jaskier’s throat felt like someone was strangling the life out of it. Which was possibly why it came out so small. “Well… hardly a friendly thing to do. And you know I’m piss at fights.”

“I don’t know. You’ve been holding your own ever since we got back together.” The hand withdrew, and Jaskier hated himself for missing its absence. Then again, friends touched each other in completely platonic, friendly ways, right? And Jaskier hadn’t had many, well, _any_ friends do that recently. It wasn’t unusual to miss it.

Jaskier sighed and sat up, glancing at Geralt, who was now sitting near the headboard, looking at him thoughtfully. Jaskier sat back against the headboard, too, although not too close. He knew Geralt was not one for close proximity. The touch was truly surprising. Jaskier looked down at the fringe on his nightshirt. “So… did you settle things with… with Yennefer?”

Geralt sighed. “No. I think… She doesn’t want to see me. And… and I’m going to respect that, because I’m not a complete dumbass.”

Jaskier huffed a laugh. “Well. That’s… probably a wise idea.” He swallowed. “You miss her, though?”

“Yes.”

Jaskier swallowed again and didn’t speak for a while. Then, “Sorry.”

“It’s hardly your fault.”

“But it’s awful, all the same.”

“It’s a mess, is what it is.” Geralt sighed and continued, “And what about you?”

“…What about me?”

“Who’s the latest chase? Or were you in the middle of something that I interrupted?”

Jaskier blinked. He was briefly distracted by the light smile on Geralt’s face. The way his hair always seemed to perfectly rest around him, like he was constantly ready to be painted by some amazing artist.

“Jaskier?”

The bard blinked and said, “I… what? No, there’s… there’s no one.”

Geralt laughed. “Really? You’re always after _someone_.”

“Why are you even asking?” Jaskier snorted. “You never care about my romantic and/or sexual exploits. Detest them, most of the time.”

Geralt scratched his neck. “Well… after I left you in the mountains, I had a lot of time to myself. To think. And think some more. And… I realized I don’t have a ton of friends. At all. Certainly ones that I see often. And… I suppose I should be better to the ones I do have. Which… I hope, includes you.”

Jaskier swallowed. “Well… Of course it does.” He laughed nervously. “It always has. Maybe. I don’t know. Not on days you annoy me, you understand, but that’s true of most people.”

Geralt snorted.

Jaskier kept playing with the fringe of his shirt. “Well… since we’re… being candid… I… There is someone. I’m interested in.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, which Jaskier noticed when he looked up to make sure Geralt wasn’t falling asleep out of boredom. Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“They’re…” he sighed. “Way out of my league. Bloody beautiful. More importantly, brilliant, at all things. Smart. Funny. In their own way. Experienced. Compassionate. Thoughtful—”

“A true paragon,” Geralt commented.

“Well, they’re not without flaws,” Jaskier commented wryly. “Self-awareness issues. Although I think they’re improving. Slowly.”

“Well that’s good.”

“And of course they are not even remotely interested in me,” Jaskier continued. “Not even in a thousand years.”

“You always go for the unobtainable ones,” Geralt said, shaking his head with a smile.

“…Yes. It’s a curse.”

“It’s not because they’re married is it?”

“Oof!” Jaskier burst out laughing. “Gods, no. Oh. No. Nope. Just, not interested.”

“Well since I have yet to meet someone you’ve been interested in who’s failed to fall for your charms, I’m sure they’ll come around. And you’ll come find me if they send assassins after you.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Jaskier replied.

Geralt smiled.

Jaskier smiled weakly back, coughed, and said, “Geralt… maybe it’s too much to ask, but… is it all right if I travel with you again? I mean… it’s purely because I’m running out of material and not you know, for any other particular reason whatsoever.”

“What about your new crush?”

“Oh, I think I’ll be all right.”

Geralt tilted his head and made an expression like he was thinking deeply. “Well, admittedly there may come a time when I run across another creature that needs a bard to sing to them, and since I have no such skills, having you along might just be a good idea.”

“Oh, well, you’re right. It is a rare gift, only given to those precious few of us. Good idea, Geralt. In which case, since you’ve so dearly begged me to come along, I will of course, deign to accompany you.”

Geralt laughed. “Thank you, Jaskier.”

“You’re very welcome, Geralt.”


	2. Sing For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt celebrate after an Aeschna hunt. Alcohol is had. Geralt helps Jaskier to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating went up for some unexpected smut. I have a personal headcanon that Witcher metabolisms burn through normal alcohol rather quickly, and Jaskier has a tendency to pretend he's drunker than he is for various performance reasons, like calling it an early night.

It was an accident. Or proximity. That’s what they thought, at first.

Geralt killed three monsters in a row that looked like giant dead trees with way too many legs and teeth that were far too sharp. The battle had taken a long time, and fortunately had a very big payout. After Geralt had taken a good long bath, he was in the mood to celebrate.

Jaskier was rather happy that Geralt had survived the whole fight. He’d spent it all wondering if Geralt was going to drown or be cut into bits, and cursed every second that Geralt was standing safely on solid ground beside him. And Geralt hadn’t been injured too badly, which was even better, although Jaskier had still fussed. Geralt never cared too much about worrisome wounds, so Jaskier worried for him. Altogether, it had been a very stressful day where Jaskier had felt useless and he was happy to burn the anxiety off with some singing at the local inn, food, and drink.

The inn crowd didn’t mind when Jaskier got some of the words wrong; it happened when you were drinking, and the crowd was drinking, too, so they hardly noticed.

Geralt even sang along at some points. Odd for him, if Jaskier thought about it, but Geralt came out of the fight to see Jaskier white as a sheet and checking over him desperately like he might bleed out, and Geralt didn’t want to see that kind of terror on Jaskier’s face ever again. Even though Geralt knew that a Witcher’s life sometimes meant that was inevitable. So yes, Geralt sang along, drinking in the sight of a Jaskier who was smiling and laughing and happy.

Things had still been a bit awkward between them since they got back together, but they worked through it. Geralt made stupid jokes that Jaskier rolled his eyes at (though some were quite good, really, it was more that Geralt needed good targets for his wry humor). Jaskier sang his over dramatic songs and picked up local gossip over which he added flavorful commentary wherever they went.

They both got rather drunk that night. When Jaskier nearly dropped his lute to disaster, Geralt at least had enough sense left to call the night for them both and help Jaskier up to their rooms. Geralt eventually just picked Jaskier up - the stairs were small, it was easier - and the man was laughing and clinging to Geralt’s arms.

Geralt deposited Jaskier on his bed, half falling on him in the process, and realizing that maybe he was also a bit drunk.

This led to Jaskier giggling and lightly petting Geralt’s cheek. “You... you all right?” Jaskier asked.

When Geralt managed to push himself up to look at Jaskier, their faces were very, very close. Jaskier has that gentle smile on his face. The one Geralt knew was reserved for truly happy moments. Geralt didn’t realize he was reaching out to trace Jaskier’s lips until Jaskier leaned into the touch.

“...Can I...?” Geralt asked, quietly.

“Can you what?” Jaskier replied.

Geralt learned in and brushed a soft kiss along Jaskier’s jaw.

Jaskier froze for a second, then pulled Geralt into a more solid kiss. Jaskier was surprisingly strong, holding Geralt in place like wanted to devour the other man, but Geralt also wasn’t protesting. Jaskier had soft lips and a warm mouth that tasted like the roast they’d had for dinner.

When they eventually pulled apart, panting a bit, Geralt could see that Jaskier’s eyes were a bit glassy.

“Is this a bad idea?” Geralt asked, quietly.

Jaskier seemed to visibly wilt, his expression shuttering, and looked away, pulled his arms off of Geralt’s neck. “If you don’t want—"

“I want,” Geralt said, taking Jaskier’s chin in his hand so that Jaskier would look at him. “To hear you sing some more.” It was something he’d wanted for a while, but hadn’t spoken about. Jaskier was into someone else, and Geralt accepted that. But there were times Geralt wondered what that pretty voice sounded like when he was fucked out of his mind.

Jaskier snorted. He pulled Geralt back down by clasping his arms around Geralt’s neck again. “I think I can open my schedule for a private audience, but... I need some inspiration.” He rubbed his crotch against the leg Geralt had planted between Jaskier’s thighs.

Geralt laughed. “Please tell me you don’t normally use that on people.” He leaned in and kissed the exposed bit of skin on Jaskier’s neck.

“Well... I can’t rightly say whether or not. Prob-ahh-bly.”

Geralt found that Jaskier’s skin was very soft. Tougher in places where it was usually exposed during travel, but the parts tucked under his shirt were so very soft. Geralt placed kisses on all the parts he could reach, making Jaskier shiver. This led to Jaskier’s shirt being mostly undone and Geralt sucking on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Tell me you don’t always ask if someone wants it by first asking if it’s a bad idea,” Jaskier said, a bit sharply.

Geralt pulled away, smiling sadly. “You were very rightfully angry at me very recently, and we are both rather drunk.”

“I will be very perplexed again if you don’t keep on,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt down for another kiss.

Geralt eventually sat up and pulled his shirt off, tossing it in a corner, while Jaskier finished undoing his. Geralt ran his hands through Jaskier’s chest hair - which was rather soft, like the rest of him - and leaned down again to kiss him.

Jaskier smoothed his hands around the parts of Geralt he could reach. The problem with being a walking muscle of a man was that he was just big everywhere. And of course Jaskier’s muddled head couldn’t quite keep track of where he’d been. It all felt nice and solid, though. He eventually found Geralt’s pants and tugged at them.

“Be patient,” Geralt said as he pulled away with a grin, and scooted back while Jaskier pouted. Geralt undid Jaskier’s pants while Jaskier sat up with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you up to Geralt?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt scooted down some more and yanked Jaskier’s pants down, making Jaskier laugh, “What—?”

And then Geralt had his mouth on Jaskier and Jaskier found it very hard to think of anything else. Geralt’s mouth was like a furnace.

“Melitele’s tits, Geralt...” Jaskier moaned, covering his face. Geralt was a lot better at this part than Jaskier had imagined.

Geralt grasped Jaskier’s hips to keep him in place, and Jaskier shortly had to grab the blankets for support. He was nervous about grabbing Geralt’s hair.

Geralt eventually popped off and grinned at Jaskier’s dazed expression. Geralt, of course, looked perfectly fine, the gorgeous arse. “You all right up there?”

“Ask me tomorrow and do not fucking stop!”

Geralt grinned and reached into one of his pants pockets, rifling quickly through while Jaskier tried not to growl at him. Geralt dropped a small liquid-filled vial on the bedspread before pulling at Jaskier’s pants some more. Jaskier helpfully helped him get them completely off, and Geralt lightly dropped them on the floor.

Jaskier wondered at the hungry expression on Geralt’s face.

Geralt unstoppered the bottle and coated his fingers in the substance, before kneeling back between Jaskier’s legs and ducking back down to swallow him again.

“How the FUCK are you so good at that?” Jaskier moaned, wanting to squeeze his legs around Geralt, but finding the man too muscular because of _course_.

Geralt made a “hmm” sound around Jaskier’s cock and really Jaskier just wanted to slap the man.

Geralt reached under Jaskier and caressed his ass, making Jaskier shake even more. When Geralt’s fingers dipped between his cheeks and caressed his rim, Jaskier yelped. Somehow Geralt still had a firm grasp on Jaskier’s hip, so Jaskier didn’t smash the man’s face with the movement, but still.

The oil was warm from Geralt’s body heat and Jaskier whimpered at the feel of it, covering his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to this much attention.

When Geralt finally pressed a finger into him, Jaskier moaned again, trying not to thrust into Geralt’s face.

“Geralt I’m fucking close!” Jaskier wheezed.

Geralt popped off Jaskier’s cock and grinned. “Can’t have that yet can we?”

“Ass,” Jaskier muttered. Geralt still had a finger in him, strongly gently. Geralt pulled out to apply more oil, then leaned down to capture Jaskier’s mouth, capturing the yelp Jaskier made when Geralt replaced his finger.

“-eralmm—” Jaskier murmured, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck.

Geralt added a second finger and broke the kiss so he could mouth at Jaskier’s collarbones while the bard panted.

“Isn’t there-fuck-something you want _me_ to do?” Jaskier asked, a bit distracted by the pleasure Geralt was coaxing out of him every time he hit a sweet spot with those damn fingers.

“I like all the sounds you’re making,” Geralt murmured before going back to sucking a hole in Jaskier’s neck.

“Yes, but something eLLse?!”

Geralt started scissoring his fingers a bit harder before adding a third and Jaskier briefly forgot what he’d been asking. Jaskier’s hands were leaving marks on Geralt’s shoulders, thick Witcher hide or no.

When Jaskier was next more cognizant, Geralt had pulled away and was looking at him in concern.

“What?” Jaskier asked.

“Are you all right?” Geralt asked.

“I’m fucking… are your pants still on?”

“…Yes?”

“Why?”

Geralt laughed and stepped off the bed to tug his pants down. They’d seen each other naked before – traveling on the road, injuries, shared quarters, group baths, that sort of thing – but there was something… _extra_ this time, watching Geralt move back to the bed, hungry for Jaskier, and Jaskier wondered if his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

Jaskier pushed himself up to try and roll onto his stomach, but Geralt stopped him and grinned.

“I want to see you.”

Jaskier felt his face somehow grow redder at the honesty in that gaze and swallowed, nodded, and lay back down.

Geralt knelt between Jaskier’s legs, coated his cock in the oil, then pulled Jaskier to him, tugging Jaskier’s ankles up around his neck.

“You’re very limber,” Geralt commented as he positioned himself better, lining up his cock.

“Fuck’s sake, Ger—” Jaskier began, rolling his eyes as he flushed.

Then Geralt pushed in and Jaskier cried out. Jaskier was breathing hard, but fuck, Geralt was large and even with all that prep it was just… everything.

Geralt worked slowly, leaning down to capture Jaskier’s lips again and swallow down his cries as Geralt sunk himself into that tight heat. Jaskier clutched at Geralt’s arms and Geralt seated himself at long last, breathing like a horse.

When Geralt broke the kiss so that he could look down at Jaskier’s sweat-soaked, red face, he saw that Jaskier was smiling still.

“Still wondering if this is a bad idea?” Jaskier asked, breathless and shaking.

Geralt grinned and wriggled his hips, making Jaskier moan and tighten his grip on Geralt’s biceps.

“Don’t think so,” Geralt replied. He rearranged his knees a bit, took hold of Jaskier’s shoulder, and set a quick pace.

It turned out Jaskier was even mouthier during sex, which Geralt thought rather charming. Jaskier moaned and cried out, sometimes saying Geralt’s name, part of it, or just nonsense. His cock dribbled over his chest as his body bobbed with Geralt’s increasing speed.

“You going to come for me Jaskier?”

Jaskier blearily looked at him, then reached slowly and drunkenly for his own cock, still wet from Geralt’s earlier efforts. Geralt helped by wrapping his free hand around Jaskier’s, and stroking him in time with Geralt’s thrusts. When Jaskier finally cried out his release, clenching hard around Geralt, Geralt followed, pressing deeper into the bard and shaking through it.

When they were both spent and still panting, Geralt released his tight grip on Jaskier’s hand and gently pulled out, making Jaskier grunt slightly. Geralt lay down beside Jaskier, pulling the bard over to tuck him into Geralt’s arms.

Jaskier murmured at him and twined his legs with Geralt’s, drawing things with his finger on Geralt’s chest.

“Was that all right?” Geralt murmured, feeling sleepy, knowing he wouldn’t be awake for long.

“Perfect,” Jaskier replied quietly, leaning his head against Geralt’s shoulder. “And… and for you?”

“Perfect,” Geralt agreed, before sleep took him.

Jaskier knew there was something he was forgetting, but he figured he’d remember in the morning. He’d had a good meal, a good night of work, Geralt was safe, they’d had some rather enjoyable sex, and Geralt wasn’t letting him go. Jaskier shut his eyes, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # UP NEXT: Feelings. Probably.


	3. Your Fellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "The Last Wish"
> 
> Also I am truly grateful for all the love this has gotten. I appreciate all the kudos and comments and bookmarks. Thank you!!!

Jaskier woke up to a mild headache not helped by the sunshine in his face. He rolled onto his back, wrapping the tangled bedsheet even more in his legs, and keeping that warmth over his stomach from the sheets in place. Rolling that way was a mistake, because his ass felt rather sore. He was grateful at least that the bed was rather comfortable.

“You all right, Jaskier?”

The bard looked up and off to the end of the bed. Geralt was sitting against the wall, giving his armor a deep clean, which Jaskier assumed was the reason for the window being open. The stench wasn’t as awful as it could be, but Jaskier was amazed he’d slept through it. Geralt was fully dressed otherwise, and seemed… well, ready for the day.

“Mmm…” Jaskier murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. “What time is it?”

“Almost lunchtime.”

“…You let me sleep in?” Well, the armor cleaning meant it hadn’t really been _let_ , but…

“You were dead to the world most of the morning, and earlier you actually refused to let me loose when I had to go relieve myself. You’re a bit of a limpet. And yet somehow remained asleep when I extricated myself.”

Jaskier blinked, and the events of the previous evening came back. He felt his face warm, and looked at Geralt, wondering what the other man was thinking.

Geralt smiled as he looked back at his work.

“…I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Jaskier said, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Left you something to drink on the nightstand,” Geralt said.

Jaskier looked and spotted the mug, grabbed it, and drank it down. He was relieved when it started to soothe his awful headache. He set the mug back down and stood up to stretch, dropping the blanket on the bed. He glanced at Geralt and saw the Witcher watching him thoughtfully, before returning to the armor.

Jaskier bit his lip slightly before turning to look through his things by the wall. He paused with his spare shirt in his hands when he realized something.

“Did you… clean me?” He looked over to see Geralt… blushing, slightly.

“We were both a bit sticky and you wouldn’t wake up, so…”

“…Oh. Thank you.”

Jaskier fished for the rest of his clothes and put them on. He walked over to the end of the bed and sat down on it so that he was facing Geralt. His fingers worried at the bedspread a little.

“So…” Jaskier began. “Last night…?”

“Hmm?”

“This is not a grunt-worthy conversation, Geralt.”

“Mmm.”

Jaskier sighed and ran a hand exasperatingly over his face again. “Are you all right? With last night?”

“…Yes.”

“Oh. Good.”

“And you?” Geralt asked, looking up at him. His expression was so earnest that Jaskier felt something… He couldn’t explain it. His chest felt tight and his feet itched and he wanted to sink into the floor.

“Me? Oh. Very good. Very… very good.”

“Good.” Geralt looked back down at his work.

“…So we’re not going to talk about it?”

“…What… did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know… The fact that we had sex!? Is that just a _thing_ now? Is this a casual thing? Or…?”

“Oh. I… um…” Geralt reached up to scratch his head, realized his hand was filthy, and stopped, then put the hand back down. He looked… nervous. Jaskier wasn’t used to Geralt looking nervous. It was cute. Damn the man for being _cute_ , especially when Jaskier was annoyed with him. “I mean, I’d be happy to do it again, if you… If you wanted…?”

Jaskier blinked at him. But Geralt didn’t add anything. Eventually Jaskier asked, “And…?”

“…And what?”

“So it’s purely casual?”

“…Isn’t that what you want?”

“Why…? What?” It was a bit sharper than Jaskier had intended, but he kind of felt a bit floaty at this point, so he felt he couldn’t be entirely blamed for it.

“Well you’re still pursuing whoever it is you’re pursuing, right? I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. I thought this was just… to pass the time?”

Jaskier opened and closed his mouth, and then stood and walked away, pacing, not looking at Geralt.

“You’re annoyed,” Geralt commented.

“No, I’m just _peachy_ ,” Jaskier basically snarled.

“is there something you’d like me to—?”

Jaskier sighed. “I like you, Geralt.”

Geralt blinked. Then blinked again. “Thank… you?”

Jaskier sighed again, realizing he hadn’t… Words always failed him at the worst times. He was a poet, damn it all! Words were meant to be his specialty! “I mean I _like_ you. Romantically.”

“…Oh.”

“Yes.”

“… _Oh_.”

“ _Yes_.”

Geralt blinked.

Jaskier wished his throat would stop strangling itself. When Geralt still just stared at him, Jaskier grabbed his lute and left the room. He was hungry and he knew that never helped when he was annoyed.

* * *

Jaskier was halfway through lunch when Geralt came down to sit with him and order his own meal. Jaskier eventually added, staring at his food, “I would have gotten you something, but I didn’t know if you’d…” Show up? Leave? Already ate? Like Jaskier’s choice? Want to sit with him? Jaskier didn’t know.

“It’s all right,” Geralt replied. Food quickly arrived and Geralt dug in himself. Neither of them said anything. They both stared at their food and pointedly _not_ each other. It wasn’t like it wasn’t normal, for a meal between them. Geralt was frequently so hungry after a hunt that sometimes Jaskier would give up talking and go play a song or six, talk to someone else, or take a nap. And after Jaskier had performed and just wanted something filling in his stomach, Geralt knew to leave him alone. But this… this was uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know,” Geralt finally said.

Jaskier looked up at him. Geralt had that earnest expression on his face again.

“That you felt that way. About me.”

“…Yes, that was incredibly obvious.” Jaskier cursed himself and tried to think through a song. He just… the anger was there. _Still_. Why was he angry? It’s not like he’d ever _said_ anything…

“So when did it change?” Geralt asked, ignoring the sniping.

“…When did _what_ change?”

“The person you were pursuing before? You tend to focus rather single-mindedly on the people you’re interested in. Well… at least you were with this one, I think.”

Jaskier groaned. He wanted to break the table with his face somehow. “It was always you, Geralt. You… Well not _always_. Not my _entire_ life. Not even the whole time we’ve been travelling together. But I’ve certainly known… For a while.” He thought back. “A year. Or three. Or so.”

“…Three years?”

“Or so.” Jaskier didn’t want to think about it. It felt stupid saying it aloud. He was used to pining. It took up most of his life, really. The unobtainable and all that bollocks. Sometimes people just didn’t want him, and that was that. He’d accepted it. Truly. That Geralt had initiated last night – or so Jaskier recalled – had been truly surprising. Not regretful. But very… very unexpected.

“And you never said anything?” Geralt asked, confused.

“Well, maybe I considered something like _this_ would result and that was not an outcome I was interested in.”

“Oh? And what outcome is that?”

“Well it’s like I said, you’re not… You don’t feel as I do, so that’s the end of it.”

“…I never said that.”

Jaskier blinked, then scoffed. “So, what, you _do_ like… me?”

Geralt scratched his neck. “…Maybe?”

Jaskier snorted. “Oh, well, _maybe_ , then…”

“Look, this is all very new, okay? I didn’t _know_ —”

Jaskier laughed. “Yes, because why would you? You like powerful goddesses like Yennefer or lusty sex machines who fall panting at your feet or for your purse, not…” Jaskier sighed.

“Not what?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier refused to look at him, choosing to take a great interest in his mostly empty plate. “Like me, all right?”

Geralt stared at him for a moment, then replied, “Jaskier, you’re a handsome man, with a… wonderful skillset, a truly creative mind, and a kind—”

“Look, much as I love hearing you wax poetic for once about how amazing I am, I’ve heard enough break-ups before. Or ‘no, we can’t do more than this’ before. All that needs saying is this: I understand you don’t like me, beyond the lust, maybe when no one else is more convenient, and for friendship. But I… like you. A lot. And I can’t do something casual with you. And I’m not going to make you pretend in order to avoid hurting my feelings.”

Geralt blinked.

“If you ‘hmm’ at me now I swear I will… I will just walk into the sea.”

Geralt rubbed his face. “Look, Jaskier, I _do_ like you. But have you seen what happens to the people I like? I _killed_ Renfri, and that was…” He sighed. “I’ve… done who knows what to Yennefer’s life at this point. She likely despises me and I don’t blame her. I wasn’t able to save Cirilla from whatever she’s dealing with now. My mother abandoned me. Many of the people I grew up with are gone because I couldn’t save them… Do you honestly believe you want to join the group of people I can say I love? Truly?”

Jaskier stared. He hadn’t said “love”, yet. He was still afraid to. But that Geralt had so easily done it… Well, not easily, clearly it wasn’t. But… Some part of him melted. The rest was too distracted by what else Geralt had said. “You’re saying… You don’t want to… love me… because you think that your affection damns people? I thought you hated all that destiny horseshit?”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“Geralt…” Jaskier reached out and hesitantly touched Geralt’s right hand. Geralt turned the hand over so that Jaskier could lightly clasp the Witcher’s fingers. Geralt sighed and brushed his thumb over Jaskier’s fingers.

“It’s like you said,” Jaskier continued. “The world is… ridiculous. People are ridiculous. _Life_ is ridiculous. I could die tomorrow or the next day or decades from now of old age or bad meat or wine. I do not believe that you _loving_ someone makes them miserable or end up badly. Not that you don’t have things to work on, just like I have plenty to work on, and everyone has that, but that doesn’t mean you _liking_ someone will doom them to a miserable existence or gruesome end. And… I would be happy to be among the people who can say you… you love them.” He swallowed. “If that’s how you genuinely felt. About me.”

Geralt smiled. “Well I know how it felt when you walked out the door earlier. It… hurt. I’ve done that to too many. And I don’t want to feel like that again.”

Jaskier smiled. “So that’s where we’re at, eh? No walking through doors? I think I can manage. Maybe. If I work at it.” It was a terrible joke, but it at least made Geralt smile a little wider, which meant it was worth it.

Geralt shook his head. “The last time I tried this, Yen… We almost… But then… It just went to shit within a day.”

“Well I’m willing to try breaking that record, if you are. We’ve known each over 20 years, Geralt. Give it a chance.”

Geralt chuckled and squeezed Jaskier’s hand. “All right.”

“…You still love Yennefer, right?”

Geralt’s expression darkened, but he didn’t pull away from Jaskier. “Yes. I do.”

“I’d never get in the way of that.”

“You wouldn’t. I can love more than one person at a time.”

“Well I know that, but I just wanted to be sure…”

“And if you had… someone else,” Geralt offered. “It wouldn’t bother me.”

“Oh. Well. Good news: there’s no one else right now, so that’s not a problem.” He smiled, but Geralt didn’t smile back at him. Even looked concerned. Jaskier scratched his nose and continued, “And… you’re not just doing this to avoid hurting my feelings?”

That made Geralt smile. “We could go back upstairs so I could uh… _Wax poetic_ about all your qualities that I enjoy.”

Jaskier snorted. “Tease.”

“I’m very serious. I spoke to the innkeeper earlier to let go of the second room, and we have plenty of coin for another night, and I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon. And evening.” There was something hot in Geralt’s eyes and it made Jaskier shiver wonderfully.

“Well I think that sounds wonderful, then,” Jaskier replied with a smile.

They finished their food quickly and practically raced back to their room.


End file.
